If you pay peanuts you may get monkeys; but if you pay well in an environment that ensures job security you get lunacy...

Friday, 28 June 2013

Grease me up, I've got a word baby to deliver.

So, for those of you who actually read this blog, you may
have noticed that posts from old Facey have been few and far between lately.
I've been suffering with the worst case of word constipation ever. No, I'm not
going to use the phrase “writers block” because well for one thing I don’t
think that “block” gives quite a vivid enough mental image for you. Yep, I’d
rather you be thinking that I’m sitting here with a really sore creative gland
because it’s busting at the seams with shit, clearly because I've eaten far too
much word fibre, and now I’m kilning the literary equivalent of my own house brick.

You’re welcome.

I've found myself in a particularly strange head-space of
late that hasn't really been an environment conducive to producing Because
Carrots blog post material. I've had lots of thoughts, lots of ideas and lots
of things to say but none that really fit comfortably in the vein of the
material that you see gracing the pages here. I’m sure ‘gracing’ is the correct term to use anyhow.

So in lieu of a usual post from myself, and no this
absolutely doesn't count as a “normal post” because so far at least I've only sworn
once, you get to play an active part in helping me apply my mental enema. So
thanks, thanks for allowing me to have a place to push firmly but gently onward
whilst spreading my brain cheeks for me.

And if this doesn't work I’m going to find me some fucking
glitter to write with.